


A Day With You

by ajwolf



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Clean and pure, Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Skating, Soulmate AU, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, sfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-13 13:39:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14113530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajwolf/pseuds/ajwolf
Summary: Turning sixteen was weird – unlike other birthdays, a person’s sixteenth birthday was either spent living in someone else’s body, or wishing you were.Viktor spent his sixteenth birthday experiencing the latter, while Yuuri was absolutely sure he wouldn't be the former.Or, a story in which Viktor keeps his room clean for 1438 days while he waits for his soulmate to appear in his body and then he eats Yuuri's birthday katsudon.





	A Day With You

Turning sixteen was weird – there just wasn’t any other way to describe it. Unlike other birthdays that were filled with presents, cake, family, and parties; a person’s sixteenth birthday was either spent living in someone else’s body, or wishing you were. Viktor spent his sixteenth birthday experiencing the latter.

“Yakov!” he whined to his coach an hour after he woke up in his own bed. “Don’t make me practice today! Can’t you see I’m heartbroken? I didn’t wake up in my soulmate’s body!”

“You don’t have to practice today.”

“Really?”

Yakov stared at him as if he was an idiot. “Vitya, it’s the first day of Nationals today.”

Viktor’s mouth popped open. In the excitement of anticipating his sixteenth birthday, he’d completely forgotten about his final Junior Nationals competition.

“Do I have to?” Viktor pouted. “I’m going to win anyway. The Federation will put me through to Worlds even if I pull out, won’t they? Can’t we say I have the flu?”

Yakov slapped a hand to his face, groaning in frustration. From the moment he took Viktor on as a skater he’d dreaded this day. It was always hell with all of his skaters, but of course Viktor’s birthday had to fall on a competition day because the universe hated him.

“No, you cannot pull out Vitya, it wouldn’t be fair to the other competitors. You need to prove your strength today and win Nationals as the world expects you to, even when you’d rather be anywhere but here.”

“But—”

“No buts, Vitya! Listen, your soulmate is younger than you, we know that now, and if they’re going to put up with you for the rest of your life, they’re probably a figure skating fan…or they will be. There is every chance they’ll be watching tonight, or Worlds, or any other competition you may participate in from now on. Remember when you skate that they are very likely watching you, and even if they aren’t today, once they discover who you are, they’ll probably look up every video possible of you on the internet; so skate like it’s for them.”

Viktor seemed to ponder this, forefinger tapping rhythmically on his lip. “Do you think if I’m the best in the world, they might fall in love with me before they even know who I am?”

Yakov really wanted to roll his eyes, but he schooled his features. “It depends on how well you skate.”

Viktor nodded vigorously, his eyes growing serious as he studied his coach. “I’m going to do it, Yakov. I’m going to skate so well they won’t be able to help but fall in love with me! And I’ll keep my room clean…I’d hate for them to think I’m a slob.”

With that he ran off, getting his gear packed away for the short drive to the stadium where Nationals would be held that night. Yakov watched after him and sighed, glad that crisis was averted. He’d secretly been up half the night worried that he’d have to call the Federation this morning and beg them to put Viktor through even if he didn’t compete today. It seemed he’d dodged a bullet for now, and with any luck, whenever Viktor was pulled into someone else’s body, it’d be on a non-competition day. He smiled to himself, imagining the look on Viktor’s face when his soulmate arrived; it would be rather fun to show the young man or woman around the rink and tell them about his young skater. He just hoped, whoever they were, that they were a bit more reserved than Vitya.

 

 

**3 Years, 11 Months, and 4 Days Later...**

Viktor woke up on the morning of the Rostelecom Free Skate, yawning into his palm and finding his hand tangled in Makka’s curls. He smiled to himself and didn’t open his eyes, enjoying the quiet moment with his dog…

Wait. He was at Rostelecom, in Moscow. He hadn’t brought Makka with him…had he? He cracked open his eyes and looked down at the tiny face of his beloved poodle.

“Makka, you shrank!” he said stupidly, earning him a series of tiny licks to his face. “Ah, Makka! Stop,” he laughed, realizing as he did that his voice was different than usual, dramatically so. His eyes fully snapped open, only to find the world a blur. He squinted around and spotted a pair of blue rimmed glasses on the nightstand and slapped them onto his face.

This was definitely not his room in Moscow, or even his room at home. He was in a twin sized bed that he should be spilling out of, yet his legs were still several inches from the end. Not only that, but he was also wearing a comfy pair of sweats even though he always slept naked. And to top is all off, his voice was higher pitched and sounded like it was still working through the lingering throws of puberty on it’s way to dropping.

There was only one conclusion to be had – this was not his body.

Victor squealed a bit to himself in excitement. He couldn’t wait to see his soulmate! Meet their family – he glanced at his chest – _his_ family. He looked around his soulmate’s room eagerly and nearly screamed when he was met with nearly a dozen images of himself. It had worked! His soulmate knew him and was a fan! Best of all, if the skates in the corner of the room were any indication, his soulmate was a skater too.

He made several very undignified sounds to himself as he hugged the toy poodle he was sleeping beside to his chest. “Oh Makka, I’m so happy! Wait, you’re not Makka. What’s your name? I need to know it so we can properly greet one another and be friends!”

Viktor fingered the dog’s collar and was pleasantly surprised to see the dog’s name was English —  Victor. The dog’s name was Victor. A wide smile stretched across his face as he buried his nose into the poodle’s fur; this was too good.

“Well then Victor, let’s go see ourselves, yes?” Viktor said happily, switching to English. He hopped off the bed and made his way to the door, wondering where the nearest restroom was. He really hoped he found it before he ran into any family members. He really wanted to see his soulmate and have a moment to fall in love with them before he met his future in-laws.

Poodle Victor seemed to know what was up, slipping out past him and walking over to the first door on the right; it was conveniently cracked open, giving him a helpful sneak peak of the empty bathroom inside.

“Thank you, Victor!” he chimed to the dog, pushing the door open and stepping inside, clicking the light switch as he went. There in the mirror, gazing back at him, was his soulmate.

“Since when do you call him Victor?” Viktor turned, a bit sad that he’d barely even gotten a second to stare at the slightly unruly black hair and deep chocolate eyes before a voice behind him had startled him. It was a woman’s voice, but her English was heavily accented. “Not to mention your English has a distinctly Russian accent even though you’ve never spoken a word of it in your life, Yuuri.”

She stepped towards him and Viktor noticed she had the same brown eyes as his soulmate, though her hair was a bit lighter, with blonde highlights sprinkled throughout her ponytail. She was older than, what had she called him, Yuuri? Was that his soulmate’s name?

“So, who are you, not-Yuuri?”

Viktor stared for a quick moment before he beamed. “I’m Viktor! And if this body’s name is Yuuri, then I’m Yuuri’s soulmate! Who are you?”

The girl blinked at him. “Viktor? Viktor who?”

“Viktor Nikiforov.”

She glared at him. “You’re lying.”

Viktor gasped. “I’m not! I swear it!”

“You saw my brother’s posters and you’re just having a laugh!” Viktor was a little insulted, but then again there were a _lot_ of posters. Why anyone’s soulmate would play a trick like that was beyond him, but he could understand why someone could be suspicious.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Viktor said seriously. “I’ve been waiting for him for four years. I want to know him, I want him to know me. I wouldn’t lie about who I was. I’ll admit, I was excited about seeing my posters in his room, but that’s just because I’ve spent every minute of the past four years working hard, _hoping_ my soulmate would see me. Hoping _Yuuri_ would see me!”

She glared at him, staring him down hard for one, two, three beats before she finally broke into a smile. “Well then, hello Viktor Nikiforov, and welcome to the family. Oh, and the dog’s name is Victor, but we all call him Vicchan since your name is pretty hard to say in Japanese.”

“Oh! That’s fine. You can call me that too, if it’s easier!”

His soulmate’s sister quirked her eyebrow at him. “You want us to call you the dog’s name?” She shook her head, rolling her eyes and muttering something in Japanese. He was going to have to learn Japanese now. Oh no, did his soulmate only speak Japanese? He was going to be so confused! “I’m Mari by the way.”

Viktor looked up at Mari and nodded. “Nice to meet you, Mari. I really want to learn more about you and your family, but do you mind if we do it while I stare in the mirror?”

Mari slapped her hand to her forehead and Viktor couldn’t help but smirk. She was a lot like Yakov.

“My brother’s soulmate is an idiot.”

 

* * *

 

Yuuri felt himself wake slowly, as if he’d slept a particularly long time, which really didn’t make any sense considering he’d been up far too late the night before watching Viktor’s short program at the Rostelecom Cup. He’d made a deal with his family that they wouldn’t say anything about his late-night viewing parties if he promised not to sleep in too late the next day. The same rule was in place for Mari if she wanted to go out with friends, so Yuuri never felt sour about it, even if he did long to sleep past noon on occasion.

He reached over to the nightstand to grab his glasses, feeling a bit sad since it seemed Vicchan had already abandoned him for the day. Yuuri missed the warmth that was usually snuggled against his chest first thing in the morning. He frowned as he reached and reached, only his hand never made contact with his nightstand or glasses, only more and more bed.

His eyes snapped open, and he took in the rather sterile room, which he immediately knew must be a hotel room of some sort. The sheets and covers were white, the walls were beige, with no touches of personality; and there were a pair of suitcases on the floor.

More importantly, he could _see_ all of this, without his glasses.

“Oh shit.” His voice sounded far deeper than his own, the Japanese words he spoke felt awkward on his tongue, as if he’d never spoken them before. “Oh shit,” he said again, this time in English. That felt better, and even more familiar. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!” he moaned to himself, laying back and pulling the covers over his head.

It was his sixteenth birthday, and he’d been so _sure_ he wouldn’t find himself switching bodies today that he’d ruled it out as even a possibility, refusing to think of it. Truthfully, he knew he was just trying to avoid the inevitable disappointment because there was no way at all he’d be ‘meeting’ his soulmate today.

The joke was apparently on him though because, as he slowly ran his hands over his body (avoiding any private areas out of respect), he knew with utmost certainty that _this_ was most assuredly not his body. It was a man, and he was definitely naked.

Yuuri peeked his head out from under the covers and brought a hand to his face, rubbing his eyes. A sweep of hair rested near his temple and he had to resist the urge to peak at it. There was a mirror near the table and he figured it would be best to confront this all at once.

But first, pants. He might be ridiculously curious (and overwhelmed) about his soulmate, but his first look at them would not include their penis. He’d save that for later when he would have to not just see it but touch it in order to go to the bathroom. He offered up a silent apology in advance to his soulmate, before remembering that they would have to do that same thing to his body eventually. While he wasn’t a fan of this, at least they were on equal footing. Yuuko had told him it was beyond weird having to deal with those things when she’d switched with Takeshi.

Takeshi had sworn Yuuri to secrecy when he’d walked in on Takeshi (in Yuuko’s body) grabbing his own boobs in the boys’ locker room at the ice rink. There’d been a lot of screaming and they both decided to never speak of it again.

He would _not_ be like Takeshi.

He stood with every intent to make his way to the suitcase and find a pair of underwear, and maybe even pants and a shirt; but probably not because he was a weak teenager, and from what he could tell this body was going to be one he’d want to look at. It was his birthday after all, he deserved to treat himself a little, right?

But the smallest flash of silver glinted past his eyes as he turned. Whether a reflection or a glimpse of his hair in the corner of his eye, he didn’t know but he was suddenly helplessly drawn to the mirror, eyes fixed at his face, eyes, hair body, and…

He screamed, ducked, and clutched his head, blind panic running through his head. “This is a dream, this is definitely a dream!” He looked down forgetting that, in his crouched position, he’d be rather close to his— “Oh God, this isn’t a dream!”

He jumped up and threw himself against the desk, staring like a blind man at the sun, face only a scant few inches from the glass where Viktor Nikiforov stared back. He _really_ wished he'd taken down his posters last night.

“HOLY FUCK, MY SOULMATE IS VIKTOR NIKIFOROV!”

 

* * *

 

Yakov Feltsman had been woken up more times than he could count by his skaters. Given that many of Russia's most promising young figure skaters lived in the Federation dormitories where he also had an apartment, he’d been woken up for anything from parties to fights on more occasions then he could count.

The worst wake-up calls were soulmates. Every time one of the skaters turned sixteen, Yakov made sure to be up early, stationed outside their room in case a very confused young man or woman in the wrong body came peeping out. He even made sure to wear a ‘nice’ expression after he’d scared one of his ice dancer’s soulmates so much she’d refused to come out of her room for hours. It was very strange to see an eighteen-year-old man trying to hide in his closet screaming for her mother.

Most of his skaters, for whatever reason, seemed to visit their soulmates on their sixteenth birthday so Yakov was fairly used to it. Currently, only two of his skaters were without soulmates: Viktor and Georgi. While Viktor had used his lack of a soulmate to fuel his devotion to skating (and keeping a clean room), Georgi had developed the unfortunate habit of writing a poem to his ‘beloved’ each night before he went to sleep. It didn’t matter how late it was or what flights they had in the morning, he had to do it, and then run it by Yakov to make sure it sounded alright.

He’d asked countless times why Georgi couldn’t just use the poem from the day before which had gotten him several extremely exasperated sighs. “But my feelings for her change every day! I have to tell her how one more day without her has only made my love stronger!”

Yakov personally planned to do whatever it took to keep the poor young woman from ever being subjected to Georgi’s poetry recitals. One poem was sweet, but daily poems for literally years was enough to drive anyone crazy.

All and all, Viktor’s near manic obsession with skating for his soulmate was downright pleasant compared to most of what he'd dealt with. He should have, he later realized, assumed that someday all that good fortune would run out, and he'd find some fan of Viktor’s inhabiting in his star skater’s body.

But he hadn’t, so waking up to Viktor screaming through the wall in a mixture of English and some other language he had no hope of translating was definitely not expected nor desired. But here he was, jolting out of bed and rushing into the hall in his pajamas, pounding on Viktor’s door at way-too-fucking-early-for-this-shit in the morning to find out just what in the hell Viktor was doing.

“Vitya!” He tried to keep his voice down, not wanting to create even more of a disturbance than Viktor already was.

The sounds from in Viktor’s room cut-off with a rather definite squeak, before there was a lot of stumbling around, some more cursing, and then Viktor flung open the door, hair a complete mess and track pants just barely pulled on. His eyes widened as he took in his coach.

“Yakov Feltsman!” he gasped.

“Oh fuck,” Yakov swore. “You’re not Viktor, are you?”

 

* * *

 

It turned out that Yuuri’s parents spoke a whole two words of English, four if you counted ‘Viktor Nikiforov’ as English. After giving him ten minutes in the bathroom to stare at himself and clean-up (“Keep your hands off my brother, Nikiforov!”), Mari led him downstairs and introduced him.

They had stared at him curiously for all of thirty seconds before both shouting, “Viktor Nikiforov! Figure Skating!” and hugging him tightly.

“They know who you are,” Mari confirmed with a smirk. Her father turned to Mari and began asking her questions while Yuuri’s mother just smiled up at him, holding his hand.

“Vicchan,” she said softly, patting his hand and Viktor beamed at her.

“Yes! You can call me Vicchan! It’s cute.”

Yuuri’s mother didn’t bother asking a translation, obviously getting the gist of what he’d said by his tone. Instead, she just led him to the dining room and sat him down on the floor in front of a table. She picked up a pair of chopsticks and pretended to eat with them with a questioning look in her eye.

“Oh, yes. I’m hungry. I could eat.”

She shook her head and hummed before awkwardly holding her hands like she was cutting a steak and pretending to eat again.

“She wants to know if you can use chopsticks,” Mari clarified, joining them in the room.”

“Oh, yes. How do I say yes?”

“Hai.”

“Hai!” Viktor said, earning him a smile and a pat on the head from Yuuri’s mother before she hustled out of the room.

“Dad’s calling in some of Yuuri’s friends and his ballet teacher. They all speak English so between the four of us we can handle all your translating. Once they get here we can tell you all about Yuuri, and you can tell Mom and Dad more about you beyond ‘he’s the greatest figure skater in the world!’ which is about all they know. Mind you, even though Yuuri skates they really don’t know much. They’ve always been busy running the Onsen so they've never really had time to learn about it.”

“Oh!” Viktor looked around. “So, this is an Onsen?”

Mari nodded. “Restaurant and Hot Springs. There’s a few spare rooms as well for functions, or if someone really needs it, a place to sleep, but we mostly just have the baths and the restaurant. There used to be a lot of them in town, but most of them are closing. Ours is doing alright though thanks to the restaurant.”

Viktor nodded. That was good. He didn’t want Yuuri’s family to be in need of anything.

“You said Yuuri skates, would I—”

“Viktor Nikiforov!”

Viktor and Mari both turned to where a stylish woman and two teenagers stood, all staring at him with mouths hanging open.

“Hi!” he waved and, if possible, their mouths all opened wider.

“No. Freaking. Way!” The girl said, looking like she was trying to hold off a nose bleed.

“Um, yes?” Viktor answered, earning him a chuckle from the teenage boy who came over and sat on his other side.

“Don’t mind them. They are both huge fangirls. Yuuko’s actually the one who introduced Yuuri to your skating.”

“Really?” Viktor said eagerly, looking back towards the teenage girl who was skipping over to sit next to the boy. Viktor got the distinct impression they were dating and probably soulmates.

“Yes! Minako introduced him to skating since he was so good at ballet, and the three of us would skate together. Takeshi didn’t really like doing It for more than fun, or to play hockey, but Yuuri had always liked skating with me, and we were a pairs team for a while. When I showed him your performance at the Junior World Cup he got totally into it. Before I knew it, he was surpassing me!”

The older woman sat down with them now, apparently over her shock enough to finally move. “Once he saw you skate, he started coming to my studio asking how he could move like you do, so we started drilling footwork and building his leg strength. He’s one of the hardest workers you’ll ever meet.”

Viktor was already so in love with his soulmate; he sounded like someone who worked so hard, he liked skating, and he was cute! What more could he ask for?

The conversation and his thoughts were interrupted as Yuuri’s parents came back with enough food for all of them, and soon they were all digging into a traditional Japanese breakfast that had Viktor puffing his cheeks in glee.

“This is so good!”

Mari smirked at him. “I guess we’ll have to have Katsudon for dinner.”

“Katsudon?” Viktor asked.

“Yuuri’s favorite,” literally everyone at the table said. It seemed like Yuuri’s parents spoke three words. Or was it five?

“That sounds great! I can’t wait.” He paused to take a bite, enjoying the delicious flavors. “You said Yuuri skates – has he ever competed?”

They all stared at him in surprise before Mari suddenly smacked herself in the head. “Of course you don’t know, my bad! I never told you our last name, did I?”

“Oh,” now that he thought about it, “no, you didn’t.”

The others, minus Mari’s parents all chuckled. “Well that explains it,” Minako said with a chuckle as she took a sip of tea.

Mari grinned at him. “Our name is Katsuki. My brother’s name is Yuuri Katsuki.”

 

* * *

 

“Yuuri Katsuki the Junior World Cup Silver Medalist! You qualified for the Grand Prix Final this year, didn’t you?”

Yuuri gulped and nodded his head. “Yes sir. That’s me.”

“Well damn,” Yakov sank back into the sole chair in the hotel room. “Viktor will be glad about that. He’s a fan of yours.”

“He is?!” Yuuri squeaked, which sounded really strange in Viktor’s voice. After he’d let Yakov in, he’d managed to find a shirt and Viktor’s Russian Federation jacket, and was currently curled up in it, picking at the sleeves and wishing he never had to take it off.

“He is. I’m guessing you’re a fan?” Yuuri nodded and Yakov continued with his own nod. “Since he was injured last year, he went to the Junior World Cup to cheer on his rink mate, Georgi. He saw you skating and then spent the rest of the evening complaining about how you were criminally underscored.”

Yuuri gaped at the legendary coach. “You’re kidding.”

“I’m not, in fact…” Yakov stood up and walked over to Viktor’s suitcases, poking around inside for a moment before pulling out a notebook. “You won’t be able to read this, but I think you’ll recognize his drawings.”

Yuuri looked at the page and gasped. “that’s my step sequence from my Long Program last year!”

Yakov nodded. “The one in his Short this season is a modified version of that.”

No wonder it had felt so familiar. “I had no idea.”

“He was planning to tell you at the Grand Prix. He wanted to encourage you not to give up even if you’re being underscored.”

“Do you really think I’m underscored?”

Yakov stared him down for a moment and then nodded. “Part of it is the new scoring system. They are pushing jumps more and more and while that’s not a bad thing, it’s leaving a few excellent skaters underperforming from where they would have been under the old system. The other part is, well, selling yourself.”

“Sir?”

“You’ve watched Vitya. He always looks impassive and confident before every program. The judges see that. Even if he completely botches an element he keeps his face the same. He sells the idea that he is the best.”

“And you sell the image that he can always do better.” Yuuri slapped a hand over his mouth. He hadn’t meant to vocalize the image he’d formed of Yakov from watching him through the TV. “I’m sorry I didn’t—”

“Your right.” Yakov said simply. “I believe all of my skaters can do better, no matter how good.”

“Unless they break a World Record.”

Yakov smirked. “Yes, I allow myself a little cheer then; then we get back to work. If they beat the old score, they can beat the new one.”

“And that’s why Viktor’s broken his own records already.”

“Exactly.”

Yuuri nodded looking at his shoes. “I’m not sure if you’d be a terrible coach for me, or perfect.”

Yakov shrugged. “Depends what kind of skater you want to become.” Yakov seemed to study Yuuri and then sighed. “I guess I’ll need to contact the ISU. Unfortunately, there’s not much we can do this late in the season. Had I known, I would have had Viktor compete in three qualifiers. He’ll be disappointed to miss out on the Final, but I suppose a bit more rest before Nationals won’t kill him.”

Yuuri shook his head. “Wait what? He won’t make the Final?”

Yakov glared at him. “You’re a fan, you should know the Rostelecom Free Skate is tonight.”

Yuuri did know that, he’d just forgotten, what with the whole waking up on his sixteenth birthday in his idol’s body because who even does that? “Isn’t there something they could do? Couldn’t they let him do it tomorrow?”

Yakov shook his head. “It’s happened before and they ruled against that competitor. Even if Viktor’s favored to win, the precedence in there. It’ll look like favoritism.”

“But that’s not fair! It’s not his fault, it’s mine!”

Yakov shrugged. “It is what it is. Viktor will understand. Actually, he’ll probably be happy about it and insist on going to Japan to meet you face to face. Though, if you’ll be at the Final—”

“We can’t let him miss the Final!”

Yakov stared at him. “I already told you, Katsuki. He must skate today.”

“Then he will.” Yuuri said stubbornly earning him a shocked stare from Yakov.

“You can’t be serious?”

“Why not? I’m the Junior Worlds Silver Medalist and my step sequences are good enough for Viktor to borrow. I’ve got all the triples down and I’ve been running Viktor’s Free Skate during my own practices for fun. He only needs fourth—”

“Preferably third.”

“Alright, third then. He only needs third to make the Final. There’s a few skaters who I stand no chance against, but Viktor’s fifteen points up after the short program. If I can just keep it close, I can probably help him sneak in there.”

Yakov studied him. “You’ll need a Quad.”

Yuuri shook his head. “I don’t have one. I only just got the Triple Axel down.”

“But Viktor has. It’s his body. You know the basics, correct?”

Yuuri nodded, gulping a bit in fear.

“Then we’ll drill it. We’ll get to the nearest rink, load you up with tons of calories so you don’t run out of steam later tonight, and we’ll drill Viktor’s Free Skate into you until you can do it in your sleep. I’ll spread word that you have a cold and have lost your voice, so you don’t have to do any interviews – you’re still speaking with a Japanese accent, so it’ll be best to avoid those. That’ll cover us on downgrading all but one of his normal Quads. You don’t have to land it, just get the rotations. Viktor would never let me remove all of his Quads even if he was sick. If you can pull that off he should make the Final, and no one will be the wiser that it was you and not him.”

Yuuri bit his lip, thinking hard. “Do you think I can do it?”

Yakov gave a deep sigh but nodded. “If you’re half as stubborn as Vitya, then yes, I think you can.”

 

* * *

 

Viktor stared up at the display case at the Ice Palace in awe. It was positively filled with medals and awards Yuuri had racked up over the years. He might still be a Junior level skater, but as Viktor was well aware, he was a dominant force in the sport.

“Yuuri lets my parents display these in exchange for a break on ice fees. Having this case helps drum up business. The only one we don’t have is—”

“His World’s Silver medal,” Viktor said observantly. It’d been the first one he looked for.

Takeshi nodded. “He keeps that in his room and looks at it when he starts to doubt himself. He travels with it too. It’s tough for him; he doesn’t have a full time skating coach like a lot of skaters, so jumps are especially hard.”

Viktor finally looked away from the case, shocked at what he was hearing. “He doesn’t have a coach?”

“Nope. He goes to Fukuoka on the weekends and works with a coach there, and then my mom watches as he runs through his programs here during the week. She can’t really help him with jumps, but she has a good eye for spins, and Minako drills his footwork in the ballet studio and travels with him to competitions.”

Viktor glanced over at Minako who was smirking to herself listening to their conversation. He’d had the nagging sensation he’d seen her before; she must have been at Worlds last year.

“It’s incredible, to have gone as far as he has without a fulltime skating coach.” Viktor had to admit, he was awed.

“Hey Viktor,” Yuuko was fidgeting a bit nervously. “What are they going to do about tonight?”

Viktor was about to ask what she meant when it hit him like a ton of bricks. “Rostelecom.” He bit his lip. Damn, he’d been out for most of the previous season and the Grand Prix Final was supposed to be his comeback. “I guess I’ll have to miss it. There’s rules about this sort of thing; it’ll be treated like an injury.” He couldn’t help but pout a little.

“Yuuri’s going to be so disappointed,” Yuuko said softly.

Takeshi nodded. “He’ll probably blame himself.”

“I don’t want him to do that!” Viktor gasped. “It’s not his fault! He’s four years younger than me and still a Junior skater. Plus, I turned sixteen during Russian Nationals, so it could have just as easily happened then.”

“Yeah, but this is Yuuri,” Minako said. “He’s always struggled with nerves and self-doubt. There is no reason he couldn’t do a Quad Toe Loop already. Lots of Juniors do them, and Yuuri’s far above average, but he gets into his own head about them. Making you miss the Final will just be one more failure in his eyes.”

Viktor felt terrible. “I don’t want that! He’s amazing and I can already tell I’m going to love him! What can I do to help? I want to encourage him. Can we call him? I have a cellphone, we could call and I could talk to him; tell him it’s okay.”

All three of them were shaking their heads. “That’ll just make it worst,” Yuuko said.

“We aren’t even allowed to call during competition,” Takeshi confirmed.

Viktor pouted, he didn’t know what to do. “I guess I’ll still go to the Final. I can just watch so I don’t upset him, and then talk to him once it’s over and tell him I’m totally okay with it.”

“He’ll probably self-combust before that,” Minako said.

“Then how do I leave behind some proof that I support him one hundred percent?!” Viktor all but shouted.

It was quiet, with only the sound of the cooling units humming in the background. Viktor had brought Yuuri’s skates with him and he felt himself itching to get on the ice and skate his frustration. He was disappointed to think he’d miss the Final, but Yuuri was more important. Just three hours in Yuuri’s body and he was already crazy for his soulmate. He had wanted his soulmate to already love him, but for the first time he realized their were real consequences to that desire.

A sudden ding broke his reverie and Minako pulled out her phone, staring intensely at the screen as one after another, each of their phones pinged with a notification, even Yuuri’s which Viktor was carrying just in case his soulmate wanted to call him. He’d been instructed by Mari not to call Yuuri until the end of the day since Yuuri would probably need a few hours to adjust to his new reality.

He pulled the phone out of his back pocket (reminding himself not to focus too much on the feel of Yuuri’s butt) and stared at the news notification that had his phone pinging excitedly.

_Yakov Feltsman has confirmed to the press the Viktor Nikiforov will be competing tonight at the Rostelecom Cup despite coming down with a severe cold late last night._

_“Viktor is resting today but is committed to competing tonight and qualifying for the Grand Prix Final. He will not be conducting any interviews or attending any public practices as he rests and hopefully recovers enough to give a strong performance during tonight’s Free Skate.”_

Viktor’s mouth dropped open as he stared at the news alert, slowly staring back up at Yuuri’s friends and coach. “I’m competing tonight? What does that even mean?”

Minako grinned, a look of pure glee sliding over her face. “It means that Yuuri is going to surprise us.”

 

* * *

 

Yakov Feltsman was a demon. An actual fire and brimstone demon bent on claiming Yuuri’s soul and sacrificing it to the god of figure skating in exchange for a Quad Toe Loop.

“Again!” The coach barked as Yuuri under-rotated the jump.

Yuuri gritted his teeth, glad that at least he hadn’t fallen on that one. He couldn’t say the same for the other ten attempts. His hip was going to be black and blue tomorrow.

Not his hip; Viktor Nikiforov’s hip.

He tried again, popping it into a double. He let out a groan of frustration.

“Ten-minute break. Water and food,” Yakov ordered and Yuuri skated over, sucking down a mouthful of water before snapping on his skate guards. He walked over to the table where Yakov had taken a seat and was opening up a bag of warm meat-filled pastries that were just the kind of thing Yuuri would normally hesitate to eat, but tore into now.

“You’re used to this body now?”

Yuuri nodded through his mouthful. “Viktor’s stamina is pretty comparable to mine it seems, though his legs are stronger.”

“So why are you missing the Quad?”

Yuuri balked. “I’ve never done one!”

“You are the World Junior Silver medalist and you are in Viktor Nikiforov’s body, you _can_ do a Quad and you _will_!”

Yuuri gaped at the coach, grasping at straws for one long, drawn out moment before he finally said, “I think I’m overthinking it.”

“So do I.” Yuuri looked up at Yakov. He looked stern, with brow furrowed and eyes narrowed, but he didn’t seem angry per say. Yuuri had seen him appear in competition with face red and veins pulsing, and this face was a far cry from that, thankfully. “I want you to run through the program again. You’ve already got a good handle on it, but I want it to be second nature to you. It already _is_ second nature to Vitya’s body. You need to tap into his muscle memory.”

“Do you think it’ll work?”

Yakov crossed his arms and looked at him sternly. “Think of it this way, since you woke up this morning have you tripped even once? Have you missed your mouth with that bottle of water?”

“I…no, I haven’t.”

“Vitya’s body knows how it needs to move. You need to lose yourself in his program; shut off your mind and let his body do what it knows it can do. You don’t think about taking a step, and Viktor’s body knows how to make that step, so if you don’t think about how to do the Quad, Viktor’s body will do it. You know the basics, now just turn everything else off and skate.”

Yuuri nodded, it made sense; Minako had always said that ninety percent of his problem was all in his head. “Mr. Feltsman—”

“Yakov.”

“Excuse me?”

“Call me Yakov. All my skaters do, and as much as I appreciate your politeness, it’s strange to hear Viktor address me so formally.”

“Oh,” Yuuri blushed slightly, a slight smile coming to his lips. “Could you tell me about Viktor? I mean, something I wouldn’t know from watching his interviews.”

Yakov seemed to think for a bit before nodding. “He almost pulled out of Russian Nationals on his sixteenth birthday because he was sad he didn’t have a soulmate. I told him he should skate for them, for _you_ , instead, and he has. Every skate he has done since his sixteenth birthday was dedicated to you.”

Yuuri stared. “You’re kidding me.”

“He has also cleaned his room every single day since then so you would be impressed by him.”

Yuuri snorted. “Because being the best figure skater in the world isn’t enough, his room has to be clean too?”

Yakov grinned and shrugged. “Viktor works harder than anyone. He has very little beyond skating. His family is supportive, but I think you understand the distance that can form sometimes.”

Yuuri nodded. “I live with my parents and they barely understand figure skating. They’re proud of me and watch all of my competitions, but they don’t come to them.”

“Viktor’s the same way. After Worlds, he goes home every year and sees his family. They send him care packages every so often, and they call to congratulate him, but that’s it. There’s no other family, and all of his friends are skaters – some here in Russia, others around the world that he sees at competition. His life is skating; except for you. You’re his one thing that doesn’t revolve around skating, which is ironic now that we know you’re a skater, but in his mind, you are beyond skating.

“He doesn’t ever talk about his soulmate in interviews, and I’m sure you know that they’ve asked. He never wanted anyone to know he didn’t have one yet, but also didn’t want his future soulmate to feel pressured by who _he_ is, or at least, who people _think_ he is. He just wants to be Viktor for you; and I can say with utmost surety that he’d want you to be just Yuuri for him.”

Yuuri digested it all, staring at his hands. “Am I good enough?”

“Do you think you are?”

Yuuri bit his lip. “I want to be.”

Yakov nodded. “Then prove it. I guarantee if we asked Viktor right now, he wouldn’t mind if you pulled out of the competition, but watching you tonight will be the single greatest moment of his life. That gold in Turin? Nothing compared to watching his soulmate spend an entire day learning his program to help him recognize his dream.”

Yuuri took a breath. “So no pressure, right?”

Yakov chuckled. “Not really, unless you consider performing on the International stage with almost no practice, pressure.”

“Maybe a little bit,” Yuuri said with a small smile.

“Then skate it. Skate your feelings. It’s what Viktor does. Use this moment to communicate with him; he’ll hear you.”

Yuuri nodded. “Alright, I’ll do it.”

“Good. It would be a shame for you to travel all the way to the Grand Prix Final in two weeks and not get to meet you soulmate in person for the first time.”

Yuuri paled. “I just thought of something scarier than performing tonight.”

Yakov barked out a laugh, grabbing his side as he tipped back. “I like you, Katsuki; now get back out there and show me why you were definitely underscored at last year’s Worlds.”

 

* * *

 

Viktor had never, not in his entire life, been so nervous before a competition as he was today, sitting in his soulmate’s body half a world away, getting ready to watch himself skate. It was surreal and terrifying.

“It’s almost like Yuuri’s here,” Mari said playfully, elbowing his ribs.

“What do you mean?”

“He always has that exact same look on his face when you’re about to skate.”

Viktor couldn’t help the passing thought of ‘ _cute’_ that ran through his mind. “And before his own competitions?”

“Then he just looks sick,” Minako said, plopping down beside him with a couple of bowls of what Viktor assumed to be Katsudon. “Yuuri would insist we not eat this until he won, but I think ‘good luck katsudon’ will be just as good.

Viktor nodded and took a bite, squealing with joy as soon as it touched his tongue. “Oh my god, this is amazing!” He began shoveling overlarge bites into his mouth, unable to get enough.

Yuuri’s mother giggled as she passed by, saying something in Japanese that made the others laugh.

“What?” Viktor asked curiously.

Mari was still snorting. “She says Yuuri’s going to be mad because you ate his birthday and victory Katsudon.”

“Can’t he have one tomorrow?”

Mari shook his head. “He gains weight easily, so he only lets himself have it when he wins, or on his birthday, if it’s not too close to competition. He would consider this borderline so there’s no way he’ll let himself have another until at least after the Grand Prix Final.”

Viktor felt kind of bad about that. Not bad enough to stop eating, but still bad. It was just _so_ good. “Tell him I made sure to enjoy every bite of it in his place.”

The others all snickered but grew quiet as the announcer spoke up, declaring that Viktor Nikiforov had just entered the building. “Nikiforov’s coach confirmed again just a few hours ago that Viktor is struggling with the effects of a rather severe cold which has left him unable to speak. They say they are lowering a few of his planned elements, but that Nikiforov does plan to skate his best tonight. In an effort to avoid infecting any other athletes, Nikiforov has been warming up in a separate section of the venue, and now that he is set to skate in just a few minutes time, has been seen entering the skaters’ area.”

A camera found them then and Viktor’s mouth fell open. Yakov looked stern as usual, but not concerned. Viktor knew Yakov’s concerned look; he’d worn it the day before Viktor had gone out and skated even though he was in a bit of pain. Yakov had been right to worry and it had cost Viktor the season.

If Yakov wasn’t concerned now…

Beside Yakov was…himself, which was weird just to wrap his head around, but it was true. He had a hood up over his head and his hair was sweeping down over his face as he looked down at the floor. He looked a bit slumped, as if tired from battling a cold all day — or practicing a routine since dawn.

They rounded the corner and ‘Viktor’ looked up.

Viktor just stared at himself. At Yuuri. He was pale; it was obvious that Yuuri hadn’t bothered with his normal makeup, but that was probably a good thing. His face looked a bit flushed which was also understandable and not unhelpful for selling their ruse.

But his eyes...

“Oh my,” Yuuko breathed. “Something’s flipped Yuuri’s switch.”

Yuuri looked absolutely determined, and despite looking a bit sickly and exhausted, he looked like a force no one could reckon with. Viktor felt his knees go weak despite being seated. He was _so_ woefully unprepared to handle this young man. “Has this happened before?”

Minako nodded. “Just before Worlds. Honestly if he’d had a Quad he would have won. Nothing would have stopped him.”

Viktor watched as they slowly made their way to the rink area where Yuuri put on Viktor’s skates. The organizers had allowed (according to the announcers) him to skate first after the final group’s warm-up so he wouldn’t need to be around other skaters. Apparently the other coaches had insisted on it, but Viktor could see how this would work in Yuuri’s favor.

“No time to get nervous.”

“Exactly,” Minako said with a shrewd eye watching Yuuri’s every move. Her eyebrow twitched. “Do you have your coach’s number?”

Viktor was baffled for a moment. “…Yes?”

“Give it to me. Yuuri’s free leg is sloppy and I won’t allow it!”

Viktor snorted before typing Yakov’s number in the phone she’d offered him. Minako pressed the call button, standing up and tapping her foot. On the screen Yakov was suddenly looking at his pocket, a curious look on his face.

Viktor could hear his coach’s voice come through Minako’s phone. “Da?”

“Tell Yuuri his arabesque is sloppy! And what was with that step sequence? I’ve never seen such a half assed effort!”

Yakov look stunned. “Don’t you think I know that?! I was just about to tell him before you butted in!”

“That’s my skater out there, and I won’t let you sluff off his fundamentals, Feltsman!” Minako began muttering in Japanese which had everyone else giggling while Viktor just stared in awe at the image of Yakov looking downright flustered.

“Oh!” Minako exclaimed, “he’s coming towards you, better to not let him know I’m calling.”

Yakov set the phone down before talking quietly to Yuuri. Viktor had to admit, his costume did look lovely. Yuuri carried himself ever so slightly differently than he himself did and it was a good look.

The warm-up ended and Yuuri was nodding along to what Yakov said for several beats before they patted each other on the back and Yuuri skated towards center ice.

“What was that?” Viktor howled. “Yakov has never once hugged me in my life!”

“My brother could tell you that’s not true and provide you with a Powerpoint presentation on how you’re wrong,” Mari deadpanned.

“That is both intriguing and a bit frightening.”

“Tell me about it. As much as he loves you, he’s fascinated by Yakov’s techniques. Today is like a dream come true for him in more ways than one.”

“Where does being my soulmate rank on that list?”

Mari smirked. “Do you really want to know that answer to that?”

No, he wasn’t sure he did.

Yuuri had taken his spot at center ice and Viktor watched, breath held in anticipation as the music began and Yuuri began to skate. It was like a rushing wave of emotion had washed Viktor away, leaving him completely mesmerized. He’d skated this program hundreds of times, and watched it on film almost as much, and yet when Yuuri moved it was entirely new. There was love pouring out of Yuuri with every move he made, swirling out across the globe, to surround Viktor in its embrace.

He felt a phone pressed to his hand and, unwilling to tear his eyes from the screen, he simply waited.

“Vitya,” Yakov said softly.

“Da?” Viktor said, the word sounding unfamiliar on Yuuri’s tongue.

“You’re damn lucky to have that boy as your soulmate.”

Viktor grinned, watching as Yuuri landed a perfect Quad Toe Loop. “I know.”

 

* * *

 

Two weeks later when Yuuri stepped into the Grand Prix Final arena, he really thought he might pass out. Yakov and Minako had been talking nonstop since his birthday, and after a lot of debating they decided it would be better for Yuuri and Viktor to meet in person before the competition so Yuuri wouldn't be worried about running into Viktor at any random moment. Also, Yakov was more than a bit concerned at how distracted Viktor would be if he was constantly looking for Yuuri. They both agreed it would be better to deal with the two skaters being glued to each other’s side than for them to be constantly on edge.

The night at the Rostelecom Cup was truthfully a bit of a blur for Yuuri. It had been surreal putting on Viktor’s costume and staring at himself in the mirror. He looked a bit pale, but beyond that he was Viktor. It was amazing, and for the first time all day, he bought it.

He _was_ Viktor.

Stepping out onto the ice, he knew that he wasn’t coming in as some nobody that no one had ever heard of. He was the reigning Olympic Gold Medalist and cold or not, soulmate or not, he needed to win that day. There was strength in this knowledge, and despite his nerves, or the way his lunch kept attempting to reemerge into the world, he felt oddly calm.

His terror and that voice that kept loudly questioning this decision within his head were powerless for once _knowing_ that this was for Viktor. He was Viktor’s soulmate and that was something no one could take from him. That had to count for something, right? Not just anyone could be Viktor Nikiforov’s soulmate.

He didn’t remember much of the skate, but he did remember smiling midway through the program as he remembered these things. It has worked, and in the end he’d managed Silver, missing gold by a fairly small margin. Yakov had been extremely pleased, patting him on the back and smiling in a way so un-Yakov-ish that Yuuri had to mumble out of the side of his mouth that if he kept it up they’d probably think Viktor was retiring. Or dying.

Yakov had then admonished him on his spins being slow and Yuuri had smiled to himself, satisfied. The feeling of that Silver medal on his neck was one he’d never forget.

All in all he had no regrets about his sixteenth birthday…well, maybe one. In his post competition haze, with the entire day crashing down on him all at once, he’d fallen into bed in nothing more than a pair of boxers (overdressed, really) and fallen asleep without even leaving Viktor a note. He’d realized his mistake the moment he’d woken up in his own room to find every single one of his posters signed with an individualized note from Viktor promising to see him soon, and he’d felt a bit terrible about it for a moment until he realized he’d kind of said all he needed to in his skate.

Now as he entered the arena, being ushered down a back hall to a private area by Minako, away from the cameras and press, away from other competitors and the fans, he couldn’t help but feel his heart swell with anticipation.

Anticipation with a side of nerves, but anticipation was definitely the main course.

The door opened and Yuuri stared, breath caught for a long moment as Viktor Nikiforov came into view; not as a reflection through his soulmate’s eyes, but in person, right in front of him.

“Yuuri!” Viktor said with a heart-shaped smile, stepping forward and clasping his hands.

Yuuri felt his mouth open to form words, but none came out as he stared happily up at Viktor, taking him in through his own eyes. It was so much better in person.

“We’ll give you two a minute,” Minako said softly as she and Yakov backed out of the room, Yakov leaving with a curt comment in Russian to Viktor who simply blushed in return.

“Hi,” Viktor finally said, his voice quiet and just a little bit nervous.

“Hi,” Yuuri answered back; and then, because he had no filter, “you ate my Katsudon.”

Viktor laughed, full-bodied until his ears turned red and his eyes teared up as he smiled brilliantly at Yuuri. “I did.” He leaned in, wrapping Yuuri in his arms and gently kissing his cheek before whispering into his ear, “Let’s go earn another one.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Just had this pop into my head and felt the need for some delightful fluff. Hope you all enjoyed - comments and kudos are always appreciated!


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